


Give Me Love

by vxtya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Sam Winchester, Evil Sam Winchester, M/M, Samifer - Freeform, but the story required it, i love sam just so you know, more like an amalgamation of evil!sam and soulless!sam while he's still the Sam we love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vxtya/pseuds/vxtya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and his many encounters with the seven sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> the title was from Ed Sheeran's "Small Bump." but I changed it because Give Me love suited it best and sorry for the inconvenience.

Everything felt wrong. He was selfish- yes, selfish being subjective, but selfish nonetheless. Sam Winchester was never selfish, rather he was selfless, a beacon of kindness and hope in this world ruled by avarice. Sam was supposed to be an angel who stood by his ideals, loved and cared. Devoted his life to doing the right thing. So why was he, sweet, self righteous, irreplaceable Sam, all of a sudden full of hate and misery? Why was he wishing death upon someone who had never harmed him, let alone couldn’t even think of harming him?

Sam was dripping with venom, seething with anger, drowning in guilt and wrath- an all-consuming wrath that wanted self-destruction more than anything else. An ever-growing rage that was aimed at his very being. Shame that not even the most scorching showers or a million purification rituals could remove. It moved through his veins like lava, mingling with his blood, forming a compound that burned its way through him, liquefying his insides as it continued its journey to cleanse him of the sin he had committed. A sin that warranted death and hatred, a sin that could very much result in people, people who adored him, turning their face away, seeing him as nothing more than dirt under their feet.

If he could, he’d happily stab himself and embrace the afterlife, which he’d been doomed to spent in hell. He knew it wasn’t his fault, no rather it was a wish. A stupid wish that ended up consuming someone’s chance at this world-someone who never had a chance in the first place.

Sin was the devil’s forte. He was the entity that sin originated from, but was not sin a mere creation of human conscience to justify their lowly actions. Wasn’t it what Sam was doing now? Relegating his actions to a mere temptation, to envy, to covetousness so that what had happened could be justified. Wasn’t he becoming the very thing he hated? The very essence of Sam Winchester was his hatred towards the so-called sinners- the ones who blamed the devil and his sickly temptations for their wrongdoings. But now Sam, the darling to his parents, the adorable puppy to his friends, the boy with a flair for the rightness, was he not becoming one of these very sinners he so loathed with a passion?

Darkness was one of the elements that constituted the unholy lava flowing inside him. Where there was once light and love was taken over by darkness and hate, which was now, slowly and painfully, being replaced by a fog- a poisonous fog that mingled with the ashes of his past- and remorse. How can fire and darkness coexist? Won’t darkness be eliminated by fire? Won’t its tendrils rip apart the veil that had been cast by the shadows?

Yes, Sam Winchester had been tempted. But it was not a temptation as much as it was an obsession. An obsession that had grown into a possessiveness, which had found its roots in paranoia.

Luke Milton had eyes that were a haunting shade of blue. Eyes that were reminiscent of the wilderness after its first snowfall- calm, tranquil, but hiding so much behind the mask. It was the eyes he fell for, when he first saw them peering at him on his sixth birthday, hiding behind his brother, too shy to come over and talk to Sam. He saw the boy had hair that looked like it has been spun from sunshine. It looked soft and silky to the touch, like fine sand that slipped through your fingers. He smiled at him, beckoning him to come over and sit next to the birthday boy. Luke had hesitated, but when Michael nudged to go and give Sam the present, the blond took a deep breath and slowly walked over. He was shaking when he held the present out to Sam, worried he won’t like it, worried he won’t find it offensive. 

The Miltons weren’t exactly rolling in luxury anymore. Their business empire had been taken from them and handed over to a guy, who Sam thought looked like a toad, Metatron. It resulted in Michael and Luke along with their siblings, who were all private school kids to be transferred to Sam’s little school in Lebanon, Kansas. They were out of place, struggling with the change in atmosphere and way of teaching, but Dean being Dean had befriended the twins, Michael and Castiel, and brought them home and introduced them to the Winchesters on day one itself. Sam shared a class with Gabriel, their golden-eyed brother and when it was time for his birthday, he’d invited them over. Sam never saw the siblings together, save for Gabe and Cas, and whenever he did see Michael with Lucifer, it’d always been the young boy comforting his brother who sat there with red rimmed eyes.

Sam had heard about the boy, who’d always been shielded by a blonde called Lilith and a red head, Abaddon. He heard that they acted as his protectors, making sure, that no one teased the boy for his name, and Sam knew enough of Lilith and Abaddon, that he was sure no one would ignore or dismiss their threats of bodily harm, which seemed to be inappropriate for girls their age. They tagged along with him, and Sam had seen them sitting on one of the tables doing homework or talking about comics or anything that caught their attention. He’d never seen the Milton up close, but after seeing him at his birthday, shy, timid and hesitant, Sam was glad he didn’t. He knew that if he had ever seen the shade of blue his eyes were, he’d never be able to stop staring at them.

He took the gift and thanked him, earning him a small smile from the blond. He’d tried to make conversation, but the boy had already found a place to hide from his gaze, while Sam had been examining the present he’d just received. His eyes roamed all over the room, searching for blond hair, but yielded no results. Sam smiled to himself and slowly unwrapped the present. It was a first edition, a bit ratty but beautiful, of “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” with a note written in a handwriting that was pristine, perfect, and aesthetically pleasing with the curves and loops and shadowy effect of lead adding to its value. In words simple yet effective that only Luke could’ve written, it wished him a happy birthday and a shy request asking Sam to befriend him, which Sam answered in his mind.

“Yes.”


End file.
